


Hunter and Prey

by Last_Sacrifice25



Series: Mahonefield [2]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M, PoV Michael Scofield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Last_Sacrifice25/pseuds/Last_Sacrifice25
Summary: It was a bad decision, although you couldn’t quite call it a decision. He could hardly be blamed for the way he felt, right? Michael knew he shouldn’t feel like this, that he shouldn’t trust Alexander Mahone. He was supposed to be smarter than this. Yet, the memories flashing behind his closed eyes while he lay wide awake and pretended to be asleep didn’t help to remind him to hate the other man.





	Hunter and Prey

He had felt it the first time they met. He hadn’t been able to admit it to anyone ever since. But he hadn’t been able to deny the connection between them either. Michael knew he shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t seek comfort in the thought that - finally - there was someone who understood him. His plan was a masterpiece, trying - and succeeding - to put everything together piece by piece was a masterpiece of its own. When he first came up with the idea of breaking Linc out he had known that there was a tiny chance they'd send someone like Mahone after them. But the chance was tiny and the probability that his brother would die if he didn’t take the chance and try hadn’t even been a probability - it had been a fact. A fact he couldn’t accept. Once he’d made the decision he hadn’t given much thought to whom they’d send after them. Looking back now... maybe he should’ve. But going back wasn’t an option.  
It was a bad decision, although you couldn’t quite call it a decision. He could hardly be blamed for the way he felt, right? Michael knew he shouldn’t feel like this, that he shouldn’t trust Alexander Mahone. He was supposed to be smarter than this. Yet, the memories flashing behind his closed eyes while he lay wide awake and pretended to be asleep didn’t help to remind him to hate the other man. 

_They were almost done. The hardest part was over. At least that was what he’d thought right before the elevator top opened to reveal not only L.J. standing right underneath his feet but also special agent Alexander Mahone. Michael noticed the way he reached involuntarily for his gun but stopped dead when Michael himself aimed the gun at the agent’s face, a silent threat he wouldn’t follow through. He expected to see special agent Mahone looking at him with a judgemental stare, to identify disgust in his eyes, yet everything he saw was honest interest, like he didn’t think of Michael as a criminal but a mysterious puzzle he had to solve. This wasn’t part of the plan and it took Michael off guard._

The scene began to change. Colours merging into each other, blurring the outlines of Alex’s body in his memory until he couldn’t see anything beyond the mesmerizing mix of steel blue and winter’s grey that was such a close replica to his own eye colour but still not quite the same. Michael couldn’t tell how many times he’d stared into those eyes, trying to figure out whether his trust was misplaced, trying to see past their history, past the mistrust and insecurity. Deep down he knew that it was right, that he could trust Alex, sometime along the way they learned to have each others back, although all odds were against them.

_His breathing was heavy. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way out of this without killing. He followed Alex’s advice already. His opponent was down but the mob wouldn’t let him go, forced him to keep fighting. Eyes were searching the crowd, searching frantically for a way out, while he hit the other man occasionally. It wasn’t working. There was no possible outcome without at least one dead body lying on the ground. Michael sure didn’t want it to be himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to hand out the final blow. He just couldn’t. When Alex pushed through, Michael stared at him in astonishment. They were supposed to hate each other, hunter and prey. There was no way they could ever be something different, yet Alexander Mahone - FBI special agent, drug addict, killer - had just saved his life. Maybe even more than his life. The thought crossed Michael’s mind as his eyes landed on his opponent's lifeless body but didn’t linger long. Not because he couldn’t bear the sight of a dead body… he’d seen his fair share since he got himself thrown into prison in the first place, but he wanted, needed to see Alex’s face, to see those eyes because he had to figure out his motives._

Ever since the elevator it had been way too easy for him to lose himself in these eyes. Back in Sona the crowd and the adrenaline were enough to chain Michael to reality, but ever since the day Alex had saved his life the question whether to trust him or not hadn’t come to his mind again.  
They had come a long way. Every single one of them had lost next to everything due to the company’s doings and now they were faced with a task that was considered impossible and should somehow become manageable. And Michael didn’t have a clue how to perform that trick. Getting out of Fox River had been hard, that they’d made it out of Sona alive came close to a miracle and this was madness. Everyone else was already off to get some rest and Michael was glad they were gone. Anger and despair were building up too fast these days, add the general mistrust among the men, the dislike they had towards each other… it was a toxic mix. As well as their team worked when they had a plan, they were a ticking time bomb when they didn’t. Anger, frustration, mistrust, despair - it was far from ideal. The combined pressure to keep everyone in line and to think of a brilliant plan that would be almost impossible to pull off and could go wrong in about a million places at once wasn’t helping either.

Michael opened his eyes with a heavy sigh and found himself faced with the troubling sight of grey eyes. “What do you want, Alex?” Michael heard the exhaustion in his voice, he could tell Alex had noticed as well. “You need to rest.” This wasn’t exactly what Michael had expected him to say, he could feel the worries hiding underneath the words. “I’m not stupid, Michael. I saw what happened today and the others will notice soon enough - if they haven’t already.” He should’ve known. Ever since Sona Alex had made it a habit to be his shadow, to notice the things no one else seemed to notice, to keep Michael sane when everyone else was slowly falling into their anger. Michael wasn’t sure Alex knew just how much he relied on him. Sometimes he thought he could tell, but only when they were alone, otherwise he wore the mask of indifference. His heart sank when he looked down to focus on the blueprint in front of him. “I need to figure this out before everyone else marches back in here, demanding a solution I don’t have and starting to pick fights. I just can’t _think_.” He said it. Well, rather whispered it but since there were only the two of them Alex must’ve heard him well enough. Michael didn’t look up, felt the movements more than that he actually saw what the former agent was up to. It wasn’t his place to complain about the others. It wasn’t their fault they got riled up so fast and were too loud for Michael to plan. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention to Alex, there’d been times when not even a blink would’ve gone unnoticed. Now he noticed him as well, but on a completely different level. When he felt Alex’s hand against his shoulder, it wasn’t the gesture that took him by surprise, it was the way an innocent touch like this made his skin tingle even through the longsleeve shirt he still wore, even though the tattoos he used to hide underneath were long gone - sometimes it felt like a part of himself was missing as well. Alex clearly didn’t expect him to listen to him this fast, so when Michael got up he hadn’t taken a step back and was only inches away from the other man. They were close enough for Michael to count the darker spots in Alex’s eyes or the freckles on his cheekbones. Still nothing but Alex’s fingers were touching him, yet he felt like even the smallest hint of a touch was enough to set him on fire, to ignite the desire he had tried so hard to suffocate. There was no chance to deny the change of atmosphere. He knew without looking at the former agent that he felt it as well. Alex’s voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “Maybe… both of us should head to bed.” He swallowed hard and Michael could trace every movement of his muscles while he found himself nodding. Neither of them moved. He knew what was bound to happen now but he couldn’t muster up the strength to walk away and close the door they had just cracked open. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Before he could think twice of it his eyes met the grey orbs that studied him with an intensity that would’ve scared him if he didn’t knew the stare all too well by now, if it didn’t make him feel dizzy and lightheaded. Before he knew what happened he felt Alex’s fingers clutch his shirt to pull him closer before their lips met. The kiss was raw passion, fueled by desire both men had tried to deny far too long and left both of them breathless. Now that he’d had a taste Michael didn’t think he’d ever have enough and buried his hand in the ruffled hair to pull Alex closer. Entangled within each other the convict and the former agent stumbled across the room, couldn’t care less about all the things they almost fell over until they reached Alex’s room. 

Neither of them got a lot of rest that night but the next day Michael couldn’t be bothered by the anger and mistrust boiling up into an explosion that ended in a fist fight and had to be called off by agent Self before Michael could explain the plan they’d come up with while Alex was next to him backing him up and jumping into the explanation Michael was giving - it was almost unbelievable these men used to be hunter and prey.


End file.
